Out of My Comfort Zone/Kindness of Strangers.

 

I was on vacation for the first couple of days this week.  Initially, I had planned for the long Father's Day weekend away. (To take my mind off the fact that this was the first one where my father was not around; it didn't work.)  That had to be changed from Saturday - Tuesday to Saturday - Monday as my son was invited to his girlfriend's prom, which was on Monday night.  Nonetheless, I had taken Monday and Tuesday off so I kept it that way.  (Although things have been so busy at work, which is the norm, that I did check in both days to catch up with emails too numerous to count.)  And that was a good thing, since we got home early afternoon on Monday, I had a chance to catch up on laundry, grocery shopping, helping my aunt out a bit and (best of all) getting a pedicure.

However, today it was back to a physical office.  It's no secret that I'm NOT a fan of going into the office and I am really not a fan of the commute.  I love the flexibility that working from home gives me and I think I am more productive, but...

Since I had been out for a few days I knew my workload would be heavy.  (Even though I did check in.)  So I wanted to get to the office early.  However, "my" early bus wasn't on the Transit app, so I settled for the next one.  (6:33 vs 6:47).  Once I saw that the bus was going to arrive at my stop in 16 minutes, I headed out the door.  I strolled along, knowing that I had plenty of time.  By the time I approached the corner where I would cross street, the app was still reading 16 minutes.  (And yet I had walked for a good 6 or more minutes.)  And as I waited for the light to change so I could cross, the earlier bus (the one not on the app and arriving about 8 minutes later than scheduled) blew by.  If I had only moved a little faster, I could have caught it, but it was not to be.

The light changed and I waited for the bus.  Sixteen minutes became fifteen.  And then sixteen again.  And then fourteen, but you get the idea.  The bus did show up a few minutes before seven and I got on, ready (?) to face the day.

The bus wasn't too crowded.  More than I have been used to, but less than what I had seen last week.  When we got to the light rail station, where I get off, I noticed a LOT of people waiting for the bus.  This is HIGHLY unusual.  I knew something had to be up, but I didn't know what and no one said anything, so I went down the steps to the light rail.  Where I found a train sitting there waiting for me.  Only there was no driver!  

I could see him down at the other end of the train, so I walked to him.  He told me the light rail was not in service due to an issue.  I would have to catch a bus to Penn Station.  

I had a problem.  I didn't know of any buses that went directly to Penn Station. (Except the express that goes through the west end of my town that I  haven't taken in a long time.)  I debated on crossing the street, heading back home and working from there.  However, since I'd been out of the office, I felt that I really needed to come in.  (I have now confirmed with my boss that if there are ANY Transit issues, I should give up and go home.  This applies to all of us who use public transportation.  Good to know for next time and you know there WILL be a next time.)

My anxiety level was rising quickly.  I didn't know IF there was a bus that went directly to Penn Station.  If there wasn't I wasn't sure where to get off and how to get to the office.  I was way out of my comfort zone. 

Thankfully for me, there was a very nice man, who spoke just enough English for me to understand that the 72 would go to Penn Station.  I checked the app, but it looked like no 72 buses were coming in the immediate future.  The only other bus that came by was that was going to Hill Street and I wasn't sure how to get from there to my office.  (I guess it's time to figure it out.)  As I stood there for a few minutes, I kept my eye on the kind stranger, since I knew he was going to Penn Station too.  

A bus pulled up, but it said 702.  I know NOTHING about the 702.  Which makes sense and the 702 doesn't go to Newark.  The kind stranger waved me over and I could hear the bus driver yell out several times that this bus the 72 and was heading to Newark Penn Station.  That the sign on the front of the bus was not working and that the tacked-up paper on the front windshield and side window said 72 and we should board to head to Penn Station.  So I got on.  (Thankfully my 3-zone bus pass was still active) and sat down not far from the man who has been so kind to me.  I thanked him once again as we made our way through the streets of Newark, finally arriving at Penn Station an hour and ten minutes AFTER I had left my home.  (Mornings are usually a pretty quick commute for me, 30 minutes total.  Afternoons, however, are always a different story no matter what time I head home.)

Now way behind my schedule (I had hoped to get to the office before 7:30), I moved quickly through the station and the elevated walkways.  All of which were pretty empty.  The daycare center that I passed was closed, as was one of the restaurants that serves breakfast.  It wasn't until I finally got to my desk and a co-worker arrived saying how light traffic had been due to the holiday, that I FINALLY realized that it was Juneteenth.  This is the 2nd time this month that I have not realized the importance of an actual date. (https://bfthsboringblog.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-anniversary-i-forgot.html)

I won't forget Juneteenth again.  And I will never forget the kindness of that stranger. (Thank you Blanche DuBoise)